


Popcorn and Quidditch

by mmmdraco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Ron wanted was a bag of popcorn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Popcorn and Quidditch

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: We don't own the characters, we mean no harm, we have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.

"I'll be right back," Ron Weasley said to Seamus Finnigan, the sharp October wind nearly knocking him over as he stood.

"You're mad to try and make it down to concessions in this weather," Seamus returned, giving him an "I wish thee well" look. Ron knew his cheeks were as crisp and red as his Gryffindor friends' were - he, Dean Thomas, Hermione Granger, and Seamus were sitting in the stands eagerly watching the Gryffindor team take on Ravenclaw along with the rest of the school, nondeterred by the most unfavorable weather. Girls huddled in groups in the stands, and everyone was bundled up with earmuffs, mittens, and scarfs, as it was looking to be an early freeze of a Halloween.

"You want anything?" he asked Seamus and Hermione. "No point in having to go back down there for yourself later."

"Brrr. Roasted nuts, if they've got any left." Seamus looked newly-freezing since Ron had moved from blocking the chilly wind; his eyes watered from the cold air.

"The same," said Hermione, glancing skyward again. "Oh, I do hope Harry manages to stay on his broom in this wind."

"He's fine," assured Dean. "I bet the exercise is keeping him warm."

"I wish *I* were up there!" exclaimed Ron, looking enviously at Harry, who was but a tiny crimson blur up the sky, either keeping a keen eye out for the Snitch or watching every move that Cho Chang made. He sighed and began his slow journey through shivering masses of people and nearly tripping over an excited group of Ravenclaw girls. There was a tiny crowd at the concessions stand, but most of them appeared to be huddling up next to it for the warmth. Ron broke through them with apologies stuttering out from between his chattering teeth.

"Pardon me," he said to the back of a boy who wouldn't move and was blocked on either side by a beefier sort. Belatedly, he realized that the two sides of meat were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who were flanking the boy he hated most in the world: Draco Malfoy.

Draco immediately spun around and looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. "Kindly watch where you're going, prat."

Ron snarled. "If I had an inclination to go to Azkaban, I'd kill you now and leave your limbs to freeze-dry, Malfoy. Now, out of my way. I want popcorn and a prig like you isn't going to keep me from it."

With a grin, Draco pointed into the concession booth. Ron had to stand on tiptoe to see past Goyle. "They're getting the last bit for me as it is. You're not the only one who wants something warm in this weather. Though, we've got a popcorn maker in the Slytherin common room. It's wonderful for when someone enchants the fireplace to replay the Slytherin victory."

Ron's left eye twitched. "Don't think you can have me on, you nit. They can't run out of popcorn!"

His eye ticked once more as the Slytherin simply smirked, looking nothing but vaguely amused at his protest.

"Oh! Well, go ahead and eat your words, Weasel." He accepted the bag full of popcorn from Goyle's meaty hand and grinned again. "That's the only thing you'll be eating, after all."

Ron scowled as Draco and his lackeys walked off slowly. He turned to the serving witch at the concession stand. "A bag of popcorn, please. And two bags of roasted nuts."

The witch politely smiled. "I'm sorry, but we're all out of popcorn."

His bottom lip trembling, Ron gazed right into the witch's eyes. "But, my dear grandmother is down there watching what may well be her very last Quidditch game and all she wants before she dies is a bag of popcorn. Don't you even have any in the back?"

"Oh!" The witch clutched her hands together. "I'm so sorry, that last boy got the last little bit. Maybe if you go talk to him, he'll let you have it."

Ron snarled. "Yeah, I'll *talk* to him all right." He turned from the counter and walked off after Draco. The wind was picking up, so he couldn't hear the serving witch ask if he still wanted the roasted nuts, and Draco couldn't hear his footsteps as he came up behind him.

Draco was, to say the least, somewhat startled when Ron's hand thumped down on his shoulder and he was unwillingly turned on his heels before Ron hauled off and threw a punch straight at his nose. However, as Draco had the presence of mind to duck, but not the reflexes to go with it, Ron's fist sailed straightaway into his left eye. "Holy fuck, Weasel. What was that for?"

Grabbing the bag of popcorn from where it had fallen, only slightly spilled, Ron smirked. "That was for my grandmother."

Suddenly, everyone seemed to be walking past the two of them. It took Ron several moments to realize that the mass exodus from the stadium meant that the game was over. "You prat! You made me miss Harry catching the Snitch!"

Draco immediately came to life from the stupor he'd fallen into. "Why are you so sure Potter caught it? Ravenclaw's better than the likes of you!" Ron pointed to the throngs of Gryffindors praising Harry at the top of their lungs and smiled. Draco promptly walked over to Ron, grabbed the popcorn from his hand and poured it, unceremoniously, on Ron's head.

Ron shook his head a bit to remove most of the popcorn, then grinned. He pulled out his wand and, with a flick of his wrist, said, "Waddiwasi!" Sure, it wasn't a wad of gum in a keyhole, but it was a wad of buttery popcorn down the back of his robe.

A few moments later, Ron wandered off with a smile on his face. There were few things he would enjoy remembering in the future so much as Draco Malfoy with a noseful of buttered popcorn. Though, it was mostly helped along by the particular look of shock on Draco's face when, for once, a Weasley got *him*.

And, for Ron? There would be popcorn in the common room now. He could eat his popcorn in the midst of a celebration while delighting in the fact that Draco would be sneezing butter for the next week. Yeah, in the long run, missing the catching of the Snitch wasn't all that bad after all. Besides, next time, Ron would know to get there a few minutes early to get concessions. Otherwise, he might learn to bring his own.

Much later that night, as Ron settled down to sleep, he began to wonder whether Hermione's remarkable little blue hand-warming fires could be intensified slightly and somehow worked into a magical popcorn-popper which popped a handful at a time to provide the perfect amount while watching a game or movie.

It was this fragile beginning which shaped the man who would become a top engineer and designer for Sharper Glamour. Draco Malfoy, however, became a plastic surgery addict after three botched attempts to return his nose to the exact state it had been in. No one seemed able to repair his only very slightly deviated septum. After being caught in bed with a transfigured toad (though no one was quite sure what he'd tried to transfigure it *into*), Draco disappeared into Malfoy Manor and wasn't seen again until he opened his house to the public and invited them to meet the "Missus", a 500-pound gorilla named Billy Joe Reginald.

Suddenly, Ron woke up. "Ugh, note to self: never eat popcorn before bed again. I did not need to picture the sexual ongoings of Malfoy and a big monkey."


End file.
